


Implications Unknown

by SpellCleaver



Series: Xtober 2020 [2]
Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Original Trilogy
Genre: Angst, Confusion, Established Relationship, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Gen, M/M, Post-Star Wars: A New Hope, mostly confusion, skysolo, tumblr snippets
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-17
Updated: 2021-01-17
Packaged: 2021-03-15 16:29:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 3,665
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28816380
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SpellCleaver/pseuds/SpellCleaver
Summary: When he captured his son, the elusive Rebel Luke Skywalker, Darth Vader was not expecting to have to deal with his boyfriend too. But here they are.Four ficlets originally written and posted to tumblr for various prompt challenges in October, taking place in the same AU.
Relationships: Han Solo & Darth Vader, Luke Skywalker & Darth Vader, Luke Skywalker/Han Solo
Series: Xtober 2020 [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2112750
Comments: 38
Kudos: 207
Collections: Angstober 2020, Flufftober 2020, X-tober 2020





	1. Mistaken Identity

**Author's Note:**

> I am aware that I wrote these in October and I'm only posting them to AO3 in mid-January, but I'll be honest, the idea of sorting through all my Xtober ficlets was _intimidating_ XD. So, there'll be a string of fics as I slowly try to move them all to AO3, and this is the first!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This specific, starting ficlet wasn't originally written for Xtober. Back in May, I was given a prompt, "Mistaken Identity", and 20 minutes to write it; this is what came out. It was originally posted on tumblr [here.](https://spell-cleaver.tumblr.com/post/619396899041099776/flash-fiction-star-wars)

They brought Luke in while Vader stood facing the viewport in the quarters he'd prepared specially for his son, mesmerised by the eternal spin of the distant stars. He could sense the two troopers who escorted him, their minds dull and apathetic as dolls', but he could barely sense his son; Obi-Wan must have trained the boy vigorously, to grant him shields like that. And Luke must be gifted, to uphold it.

"Before you spit accusations at me," he began, slowly, then turned to regard him. He looked… older than his age, but then so had Obi-Wan when Vader had duelled him, so had the Lars couple, in the hologram on their execution order. The desert and its stresses aged one quickly, and he was not surprised that his son—his _son_!—had had to rise to the challenge just as well as everyone else. He'd watched what little footage he'd obtained of the medal ceremony on Yavin, watched Luke's broad, beaming smile and seen his youth in his face then, even as he celebrated a feat that would be marvellous for men twice his age. "I wish to explain.

"I doubt that Kenobi ever told you the truth about your father," he said, studying Luke's face closely. There was no obvious resemblance to himself or Padmé at a first glance, but if he looked… yes, he could see the resemblance there, something about the shape of his eyes and the arrogance that seemed very Skywalker, or the slyness that seemed very Amidala. He'd got his father's height, it seemed—or perhaps Vader simply hoped; he was seated now, and he'd been taller than the Princess at that ceremony, but she was tiny—yet apparently his mother's courage, as he had the strength and audacity even now, to raise a belligerent, _indignant_ eyebrow and open his mouth to—

"Silence. I will explain everything, so long as you stay silent." Vader returned to the viewport to pace, grimacing under his mask, the gesture tugging on the scars on his face. How to explain all of this? His son deserved to hear it, _undoubtedly_ deserved to hear it, but Vader was not the politician of the family and he had no wit about him with which to attempt it. "I… I knew your mother. She was… very dear to me."

Luke choked on air, then, staring. "You— _you_ knew my mother? _I_ don't even know who my mother was!"

Vader set his jaw. Yes. Yes, this would hurt, but it needed to be said.

"I knew your mother, and I loved your mother. And when I learned that she was with child… that was the happiest moment of my life. She loved you so much, would've given anything to you. And— and your father—"

He bowed his head. " _I_ was the same. I loved you so much, my son, my child. And in my love, and my desperation to keep that love, I made decisions that led to everything falling apart. That is one of my greatest regrets, and the moment I heard your name, and knew who you were—what you'd achieved, what you are _capable_ of—I was in no doubt. I have lived all these years without you, my son. I know you only have hatred and vitriol to throw at me now, but please know this. There is nothing I want more in the world than for you to stand by my side."

Luke was still choking on air. "You—" he said. " _You're_ my father?"

"Yes, my son."

"You're—" He took a deep breath, a bitter smile coming to his face. "My father is _dead_. I know that. You can't convince me otherwise." He eyed Vader's suit, the respirator, and Vader knew what he was thinking but he said nothing about it.

"I know that Kenobi's lies have driven a thick wedge between us, but—"

"I barely knew Ben Kenobi."

"Then that is only good, and he has not corrupted you to his foolish ways. Following him would've only got you killed, as it did him."

" _You_ killed him, didn't you?" That raised eyebrow again. Vader felt like this was Padmé reincarnate, judging him all over again.

"I did. He deserved it, and his foolish ways _led him there_. There is nothing I will not do to prevent the same fate from befalling you, my son."

"Now, let me get this clear. You're—" He stared, and guffawed. " _You're_ my father?"

"Yes," Vader said, irritated. Was it not evident he was serious? "Yes, Luke, I—"

"Wait."

He frowned.

He stared.

_"Luke?"_

" _Yes_." Vader was growing impatient. "Luke Skywalker, my son, son of Anakin Skywalker—"

"That ain't me." Luke— _whoever_ this was—gave a cocky grin. "I think you're looking for my friend."

Vader stared.

" _My name_ is Han Solo."

There had been two heroes at that medal ceremony, Vader remembered. This man, and… someone else.

Well, he thought, staring at Solo's unabashed grin. Shavit.


	2. Enigmatic

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Han had no idea what he did to get on Vader’s bad side, but he needed to figure it out and fix it before he got killed. 
> 
> For some reason the Sith Lord paid off Han’s debt only to put a bounty on his head large enough to buy a small planet. Though the smuggler knew what he did wasn’t exactly legal Han never thought that it would capture the attention of Lord kriffing Vader. 
> 
> At least the bounty said alive. 
> 
> Luke really should’ve realized his dad wouldn’t be happy about his relationship.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [Originally posted here.](https://spell-cleaver.tumblr.com/post/632612697062735872/han-had-no-idea-what-he-did-to-get-on-vaders-bad)

Han had no idea what he did to get on Vader's bad side, but he needed to figure it out and fix it before he got killed.

For some reason, the Sith Lord had paid off Han's debt only to put a bounty on his head large enough to buy a small planet. Though the smuggler knew what he did wasn't exactly legal Han had never thought that it would capture the attention of _Lord kriffing Vader_.

At least the bounty said alive.

Luke really should've realized his dad wouldn't be happy about his relationship.

Which was why, he suspected bitterly, he was in _this_ situation.

 _"Han?"_ Luke's worried voice sounded over the comm, and Han felt himself relax despite this _precarious_ situation. It had been a rough few weeks, between escaping Vader's captivity—that weirdo had apparently been planning to _blackmail his son_ into coming to meet him, using Han as a hostage—running from Jabba's men who'd spotted him on Nar Shaddaa, then from _Vader's_ men.

Very generous, Han supposed, for Vader to clear his son's boyfriend's debts.

Less generous to _send bounty hunters after him himself for an entirely different reason._

 _"Han, what is it?"_ Luke was incredibly on edge, Han could hear it, so he tried to pull himself together and grin into the holo.

"It's just fine, I escaped Vader, just now got a bunch of troopers gunning for me—"

 _"You escaped_ Vader _?"_ Luke said suddenly. He uncrossed his arms and stared. _"You— Han, we thought you were captured by low level Imperials, we didn't know—"_

"It's fine, sweetheart, he didn't hurt me. He thought I was you."

Luke blinked, and in that moment Han realised that that probably wasn't the best thing he could've said—Vader was still an enigma to Luke, an impossibly dark and twisted figure who wanted him, presumably dead, who'd killed his father—

Shavit.

Vader had _killed Luke's father_ , hadn't he?

Except—he _was_ —

Poor Luke.

Luke was impossibly pale. _"He— he thought— Han, are you alright, did you—"_

"I'm on the Ring of Kafrene; I'm about to jump on a transport to Tatooine," he said. "They don't _know_ it's me, they haven't locked down the place. I'll me you there, alright? Tell Chewie to fly you. You're still not allowed to fly my ship."

Considering how increasingly hard it was to say no to Luke's face, Luke _would_ get to fly the _Falcon_ eventually, but today wasn't the day he'd cave.

But the disappointment on Luke's face was nowhere to be found. He looked increasingly worried instead.

 _"Tatooine!?"_ he asked.

"Yeah, I'll meet ya in Mos Espa, if that's—"

 _"Han,_ you have a price on your head _. If you go near there, Jabba will—"_

"Vader paid that off, don't worry. I got nothing to fear."

Luke gaped. _"What!?"_

"I know, I know, this is confusing." A blaster bolt whizzed past Han's ear—red bolts. Funny. He'd got the impression that Vader was _not at all_ _happy_ with his son's partner, but he was also pretty sure that Vader wanted him alive anyway.

If that sappy speech he'd given was anything to go by, he at least _cared_ about his son. Wanted to do better.

Monstrous bounty and reward notwithstanding…

_"Han…"_

"Trust me, Luke." Han risked looking away from the troopers to stare right into his eyes, half-smirking, half-smiling. From the look on his face, it wasn't relaxing. "I'll explain everything. It's weird, and confusing, and that guy is _so damn creepy and sinister_ , it's unbelievable, but a lotta this ridiculousness sorta makes sense."

 _"…were you compromised during captivity?"_ Luke asked.

Han sighed. "I'm fine, Luke," he said. "We're all fine. But," he said, "I don't think Ben Kenobi was totally honest with you."

Luke's mouth fell open, but Han terminated the call. "I love you.

"And I'll see you on Tatooine…"


	3. Trapped

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Weakly, Luke attempted to shift himself further back on the cot, only to let out a pained hiss. The noise finally stirred the Sith Lord into action as he strode into the tiny Imperial cell. 
> 
> Almost immediately, Han moved to block his path. "Don't you dare touch h—" 
> 
> He was cut off as he was thrown into the wall of the cell by an invisible force. A groan exited his lips, but Vader paid him no mind. 
> 
> Eventually he came to a halt in front of the cot and stared down at the injured Luke. After what seemed like an age, he finally spoke: 
> 
> "Who harmed you young one?"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [Original ficlet here.](https://spell-cleaver.tumblr.com/post/633447305390030848/weakly-luke-attempted-to-shift-himself-further)

Weakly, Luke attempted to shift himself further back on the cot, only to let out a pained hiss. The noise finally stirred the Sith Lord into action as he strode into the tiny Imperial cell.

Almost immediately, Han moved to block his path. "Don't you dare touch h—"

He was cut off as he was thrown into the wall of the cell by an invisible force. A groan exited his lips, but Vader paid him no mind.

Eventually, he came to a halt in front of the cot and stared down at the injured Luke. After what seemed like an age, he finally spoke:

"Who harmed you young one?"

Luke snapped, “ _Your men_ did, when they stalked Han to Tatooine and shot at us there!”

Vader clenched his fists and Han watched him physically restrain himself as he growled out, “They were not supposed to.”

And Han was struck anew by the _awkwardness_ of Vader. The same man who’d stood before him and confessed to a lifetime of mistakes hoping for a son’s absolution and acceptance now stood in front of his true son, with no idea of how to reply. Luke was still clutching his side desperately, tears leaking from his eyes, and it hurt Han to look at; he wanted to go back and shoot those troopers right through their bantha crap helmets before they could take aim at Luke. He wanted to go closer—it was obvious Luke needed someone to hold him, a hand to squeeze in the hopes it would make the pain go away—but when he tried, Vader just shoved him back again.

Han’s head hit the wall; all he heard was Luke’s shout. “Han!”

He forced his eyes open, not liking the dizziness he was feeling suddenly. “…s’alright… sweetheart…” he got out. “I can take him.”

Luke was definitely glaring at him. “You’ve been conscious for ten minutes, stop picking a fight!”

Yes. Yes, Han had only been conscious for ten minutes, because he’d been knocked out by a stun bolt the moment he took a step out of the docking bay and trussed up as bait for Luke to come rescue, and then he’d woken up to his boyfriend in a cell next to him groaning about his wound, and—

Luke didn’t know.

Han hadn’t been able to tell him.

Han needed to—

Luke turned that belligerent glare of his on Vader. “Leave him alone,” Luke snapped.

Vader clearly picked up on something then, stiffening, turning to observe Han and Luke, head tilting this way and back. “What…” He seemed to be struggling for words just as fiercely as his vocoder was struggling to interpret the cadences he was going for. “What is the nature of the relationship between you two?”

Han laughed. “Oh, _now_ you’re interested?”

“Just leave him alone!” Luke said. “What does it matter and what do you care? It’s got nothing to do with you.”

“It has _everything_ to do with me, young one—”

Vader stepped forwards, looming, and Han went, “ _Nope_.”

He inserted himself between Luke, still half-hunched over on the bunk, and Mr Tall, Dark and Paternal, doing his best to hold his gaze stubbornly. “Leave Luke alone. I know why you want him and I know that you’re just kriffing things up for yourself!”

“If I wanted your opinion, Solo,” Vader growled, “I would ask for it.” He lifted his hand, clearly about to toss Han into the wall _again_ , when he stopped. His mask was angled down, to where Luke had grabbed Han’s hand, tightly enough it was bruising.

Han set his jaw, raised his eyebrows at Vader, and interlocked their fingers.

Vader said, “I should kill you for this alone, Solo.”

“That’s not very parental of you,” Han shot back. He was pretty sure Luke thought he had a death wish.

“Han…”

“I’ll tell you what, Your Asthmatic Lordliness,” Han said. Luke hiccupped—maybe that was laughter, maybe it was a gasp of fear, Han had no idea. All he knew was that Luke was hurt, shit was about to go down, and the sooner Vader stopped being eerie and cryptic the sooner they could both get Luke to a medbay. “Stand outside the cell. I’ll break the news to him gently. Then you can come in here, be the… role model…” He gave Vader a sceptical look. “…ya always wanted to be, and get this kid to a medbay before his injury gets worse. We got a deal?”

Vader stared at him for a moment, as if he could not imagine someone was that stupid. “ _I_ will tell him,” he growled. “I _deserve_ to—and you are lucky I do not behead you where you stand, Solo, particularly considering what you know, and what you have done—”

“What are you going to tell me?” Luke said sharply. “What’s going on? Han—”

“Obi-Wan lied to you, Luke,” Vader boomed.

“Yeah,” Luke snapped back, “I guessed that after what Han said over the comm. What I want to know is _what about_. What are you—”

“Everything.” Vader folded his arms behind his back and paced the tiny cell. Perhaps it was stress-relieving for him, but Han and Luke just exchanged a look; it was a small enough room that the cape whacked their legs with every turn, and it just felt very threatening. “He is a liar and a traitor—a prime example of why the Jedi were weak and needed to be exterminated. Nothing he said to you can be trusted, _particularly_ not—”

Han leaned into Luke and whispered, “Vader is your dad.”

Vader stopped pacing. Clearly, he’d heard that.

Luke stiffened. The hand that wasn’t grasping Han’s released his side and grabbed Han’s arm, smearing it with blood.

_“What!?”_

“He used to be Anakin Skywalker. He made a lot of mistakes. Gave me a whole sappy speech about it when he thought I was you. He didn’t kill your father; the old man lied. He is your father.”

Luke blew his eyes wide.

He stared at Vader. “Is this true!?”

To Han, pleading: “Tell me you’re having me on.”

“It is true, Luke,” Vader said. He stepped forwards, reaching out a hand for Luke’s face; Luke watched him warily, like he was ready to bite one of Vader’s fingers off, but he let Vader brush a finger down his face. “Obi-Wan stole you from me. I have been searching for you from the moment I learned your name.”

“I see. And you thought Han was me?” Luke raised an eyebrow.

Han got the sense that if Vader was anyone else (and in a larger room) he would have taken a step back. “I…” he said weakly. “There were holos of the Rebel medal ceremony after Yavin. He… was tall…”

Han looked at Vader—a two-metre-tall monster—and then at his tiny, blond son. He couldn’t quite stifle his guffaw.

Luke just glared. “You’re my father?”

“Yes.”

“You had your men _shoot me_?”

“They were not supposed to. They will be facing severe consequences for this.”

Luke’s face was beyond confused.

But he said, “Then take me to a medbay. I’m your son. I’m injured—unless you want to keep me trapped in here until I bleed out?”

Vader stood in stunned silence for a moment. Han couldn’t help but feel pettily pleased.

Vader clearly hadn’t planned on Han. He hadn’t planned on Luke being injured. He hadn’t planned on resistance.

Vader was a kriffing idiot.

This was his situation—if he wanted to value _some dramatic entrance_ over just shooting first, getting it over with and doing damage control later, Han wasn’t about to stand for that.

Luke needed him here, clearly.

“…yes,” Vader said finally. “I will take you to a medbay, son.”

He put emphasis on the word. As if either of them had forgotten.

Han rolled his eyes, and took Luke’s arm.

“C’mon, kid,” he said. “Let’s get you checked up.”


	4. "Make me."

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> [Original ficlet posted here.](https://spell-cleaver.tumblr.com/post/633497636727635968/day-31-flufftober-make-me-flufftober-its)

As infuriating as that smuggler was—and he _was_ infuriating, utterly; he was lucky he was still alive—Vader had to admit that he… had helped Vader greatly.

Luke was angry at him, confused and lost—and Vader had completely forgotten about his injury. He was furious about it, but he would have simply waved it off for a few moments more, at least until he told Luke, at least until the boy understood—

Giving Luke medical treatment now, Vader sensed, had endeared the boy to him. Only slightly. But it had.

And perhaps the truth had been easier for him to accept coming from his… _partner_.

Vader had hovered as the medical droid poked and prodded his son, growling with every gasp or grunt Luke gave out, glaring when Solo gave him a look. That man had stood through the speech he had _initially_ planned to give his son when he captured him, he knew what Vader wanted and cared about, he had seen a side of Vader that he _could not afford_ to get out, and yet…

As Vader had finally been called away to perform other tasks on his flagship, when he came back… He found their heads very close together—closer together than he would’ve liked. An emotion unfamiliar to him reared its head in his chest, but then he saw that they weren’t… _doing that_ … they just had their heads bent, foreheads almost touching. Solo seated in the chair beside the bed and leaning right forwards, their hands clasped.

Vader gritted his teeth looking at it.

They were talking quietly, a faint smile curling Luke’s lips—a faint smile that struck Vader’s heart like a bell, at how much it resembled Padmé’s. He stood in the doorway for a moment, well aware that they were too wrapped up in each other to notice him so long as he kept his respirator switched to silent, and listened…

“…I don’t think he’s gonna let you go, Luke,” Solo said. “He got real sappy in that speech. He cares for ya—yeah, I was surprised too.”

Vader’s heart twinged—then twinged again when Luke gave a little laugh. “And you believe him in this, Han?” he asked.

“Well, I don’t see why he’d be conning us into believing _this_. Makes no kriffing sense—and, again, that speech. It was… huh. Wish you’d heard it. It would melt your little farm boy heart.”

Luke just gave Solo an unimpressed look. Again, frustration welled in Vader—if only his men had been competent. If only they’d brought Luke to him first, not the worthless smuggler, and he wouldn’t have had to endure all this indignity—

“But that ain’t the question, I think,” Solo kept saying. “Do _you_ believe him?”

Luke paused.

He glanced down at their entwined hands, squeezing slightly. He winced as he tugged at the bandages and bacta patches Vader could see plastered to his side.

“Yeah,” Luke said, and Vader was _horrified_ to see tears flooding his eyes. “I— I don’t know, I dunno anything about the Force, but it feels like it’s true. It… it would explain stuff. But that means Ben—”

Solo slipped a hand to his shoulder and patted it, a solid weight.

“Ben _lied_ ,” Luke said. “He— I trusted him, after everything I trusted him, and he _lied_ —”

“Old men do that to ya, sometimes.” If Solo was speaking from experience, only the slightest bitterness in his tone showed it. “Maybe he—”

“It was him, over the Death Star. I heard his voice. He told me to turn off the targeting computer and use the Force.”

Solo blinked. “Well, that’s just weird.”

Luke swatted his arm. Solo laughed.

“Hey, I know it’s confusing,” he said. “Trust me, I know. But I think you’ve got time to figure it out. I don’t think your old man’s letting you go—back to the Rebellion, or into danger.” He raised his voice. “Ain’t that right, Vader?”

Vader, amused, still in the doorway, could only say, “Of course. You are my son. You will not be returning to a band of irresponsible thieves, terrorists and outlaws.”

Luke paled. Solo snorted.

Vader turned his gaze on him. “You, however, are encouraged to do so, Solo.”

“Nah, I don’t think so. I’m sticking with Luke.”

“You _will_ vacate my ship. I tire of you.”

“Make me.” His tone was just belligerent now. “I’m sticking with Luke, Your Lordliness.” He took Luke’s hand firmly, and lifted it to emphasise his point; Luke smiled.

Then he looked at Vader. His blue eyes were clear of tears now, but his expression was intense.

“If Han stays,” he said, “I stay.” After a moment, he added, “Father.”

Vader gritted his teeth.

This was exactly what he wanted.

Luke was with him. Luke would stay.

He just happened to have an unfortunate tagalong.

“You hear that?” Solo grinned. “You’re stuck with me.”

Vader wondered how long he could resist the urge to kill him.

But… he had to concede. Solo had got him Luke. If it wasn’t for him—if it wasn’t for that mix-up—who knew how any of this would have gone. Vader begrudgingly admitted that.

He supposed he could tolerate Solo.

For now.

Only for now…

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you enjoyed!


End file.
